Through The Mystical Eyes of Mabel Pines
by ValentinaMadoka
Summary: "My father had once told me that us humans were all part of a systematic structure, simply a building block in an elaborate project. I didn't quite understand what he meant by that, but I could work out that we were all small in comparison to the rest of the world." Warning: AU


**authors note: **So I had an idea whilst laying awake at about 4:00 a.m. and today I decided to write it!

**warnings: **AU, somewhat character death.

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_Bitter Tears & Silent Storms_

My father had once told me that us humans were all part of a systematic structure, simply a building block in an elaborate project. I didn't quite understand what he meant by that, but I could work out that we were all small in comparison to the rest of the world. The thought that I was just another little child on this Earth, not special nor a differential factor in the world, did pinch at the back of my mind whenever I allowed myself to settle for too long. I suppose that other than that I was a particularly happy child, bouncing down the streets of my dusty old town. I over heard some elders saying I brought light and joy to their dying town, perhaps I was bringing it back to life. My life was fine, not the best life ever but there's worse.

Of course my brother was a raging problem in my little head. Not to say I'm not fond of my brother, for I do love him as a sister should. However, he brought to my mind all the problems. He was rather pessimistic, bringing specks of worry into my optimistic mind set. He'd always manage to give me some life-changing question that I had no answer for, such as when our real mom left. Was she abducted by aliens and replaced by the bubbly blonde woman we now called "mother"? Did our real mom have to leave for our safety, allowing her twin sister to replace her. If that was the case, then why wouldn't she just leave us with dad? I get that he's always quite busy with experiments and such in his lab, but the overly-dramatic woman scared me. I cried sometimes, when she would insult me and my brother while still smiling that insane smile of hers. She never dared to touch us, but the insults she threw at me hurt like nails. I wished to tell my father but I was nervous, the knot in my stomach wound over and over until I realized that I couldn't untie the mental damage she'd done to me.

That was how my life was, smiling sweet little smiles to people and crying bitterly in my room at the darkest hour. I was content with such a life, as hiding had always been my fortake. I was a coward, a tiny little scaredy-cat compared to my brother, who would storm into any mystery coming his way. But my obscured life was dramatically differed when that storm came, it's raging black clouds painting the usually bright blue sky in a dramatic darkness. The clouds swerved around and formed a twister, a raging wind-storm that blew the overly-large sleeves of my sweater back so far, you could see my ghostly truncated hands.

The main thing I remember is the screaming, all the people screaming. It made my ears bleed a raging crimson, as I stood face to face with pure fear in a twisted cyclone. And I smiled, much to my brother's distaste. He had shook me, attempting to bring me to focus. He was yeling things like "MABEL IT'S NOT A REAL THING, It's NOT ALIVE!" but I thouroughly ignored him.

Our so called mother had ran away, knocking us out of the way just to leave as fast as possible. I frowned upon her, as she left her own children, no matter if they weren't truly her children, standing in a kitchen with a windstorm coming directly at them.

But then again me and my brother, we ran. We ran from our father, who was most likely hiding in his lab. Forgetting about us, yet again. He always forgot about us, even in this time of horror for two young six year old children.

We ran to another town, I dared not to look at the sign that named the town. I didn't want a reminder that we'd just left our father and our town to an impending doom. I supposed their town was now dead, and I felt like the murderer. It was a while before a man dressed in blue came up to us and asked us why such young children were walking alone in a dangerous neighboorhood. I allowed Dipper, my brother, to answer that. I couldn't talk without sobbing dryly at the moment, guilt coursing through my young veins.

"Our town got hit with a tornado so we ran and we came here..." Dipper's voice was rough, like sandpaper. Maybe he felt the same way I did, like we had just personally killed our only family. The man in blue apparently felt bad for us, as he took our case into investigation. He told us that our mother had been arrested for attempting a robbery just to get money and food, as she'd run away from her supplies, only taking her silken dresses that she wore, ones that were far to small for her own good. Our father hadn't been found, but the door to his lab was locked, and no one could open it. I knew that would happen, as my father always had some trick to making sure no one ever found out his plans. I knew how to break down that shield, but I kept quiet. Piping up that piece of information, I was afraid of being scorned and put off as a lying child who'd suffered too much sadness to be sane.

From then on we were the broken twins who awaited the day someone would rescue us. Eventually a family did rescue us, but with a small amount of resentment toward our frowning faces. I wanted so to smile at them, my eyes closed in pure innocent joy, but I didn't have it in me.

I suppose the guilt slowly pumped it's way out of me, leaving me happier and joyful, but I still sobbed alone in my bed at night.

After about 6 years we were told that we had a great uncle, living in a town called "Gravity Falls." It sounded like a strange name for a town, but me and my brother could hardly decline visiting him. Curiosity will most likely kill the broken twins, I suppose. I wasn't prepared for this "Gravity Falls" though, no I was hardly ready to be back in this town.

The town I'd grown up in, rebuilt and prosperous, but with none of my old friends, nor old mentors. And our Grunkle Stan, he reminded me so of our father, but to say he was our father who had simply been hiding for six years, that would be an amazing assumption, would it not?

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**ending note: **I'm not sure if I'll continue, this is just a basic little outline story to describe an AU I can't stop thinking about ;)


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